Children...they are the precious resources of our world. Tragically there is no criteria, no license or test required for giving birth or becoming the life-long caretaker of a child. And a though I am not a fan, Hillary was right about one thing, it does take a village. For when the parents fail their own, it is up to us, the members of the village to protect our precious resources.
The moment we are with child we begin to fantasize...."will she look like me", "will he have my brains", "his father's height", "good god I hope he doesn't get his grandpa's nose", "I just know she will be the next Mother Teresa." Most parents create these idealized plaster molds for their children to fit into from the moment the stick turns pink. Therein lies the problem.
Rarely do our children fit into the molds we create for them. They come into the world kicking and screaming, already to the beat of their own drummer. Maybe we got a boy when we wanted a girl, or he did get grandpa's godawful nose. Or worse yet there is something catastrophically wrong and we are ill prepared to deal with it.
The majority of parents adjust, abandon the much coveted mold, love and support their prodigy, yet give them the freedom they need to painstakingly create their own molds. The children become their own little people, eat their boogers, play in the dirt, wreak havoc and then become contributing members of the village.
I created and then shattered three separate molds. Oh did I have plans for my children and the audacity of all of them...they had their own! Not one of my kids became the person I wanted them to become. Not one of them had the consideration to squeeze themselves into the matrix I had assembled for them and come out on the other side as the perfect specimen I pictured. Not one!
No, the inconsiderate little so and so's...they did their own sculpturing and oh my...what they have created is by far better than anything I could have come up with. Stay tuned.....